


Diamonds for Tears

by BerlinKabarett



Series: It's Always Been You [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, Love Triangles, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, Unrequited Love, fear of infidelity, unrequited stony
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 09:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9601988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerlinKabarett/pseuds/BerlinKabarett
Summary: Steve and Bucky have been in a secret romantic relationship for quite a while now, and they decide that enough is enough, they're going to be open about it. The reveal shocks some more than others, unfortunately.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't seem to write anything without some angst rearing its ugly head. Sigh.
> 
> This is a spiritual sequel to "Just You, Me and the Fireflies".
> 
> And yes, the title is a song title, because that band basically writes a Stucky soundtrack with every album they make.

When Steve had managed to convince Bucky to return to the Avengers facility with him after the horrible mess of the previous year, he had only (marginally) succeeded because it would not be Tony Stark’s Avengers tower. He was of course grateful that the man had gotten over his initial maelstrom of grief and rage, but Bucky still found himself unable to meet his eyes, or even be in the same room. He held no grudge against Stark for the previous animosity between them, quite the opposite. He found himself unable to bear the terrible wrongs that he himself had inflicted, and he had to live with that every day. He felt selfish to try and avoid Tony for this reason, but even when he tried to make himself engage on the rare occasion that he and Tony shared the same breathing space, he felt himself crawl with cowardice and self-loathing, longing to get away.

That was where Steve came in. Steve, his balm. After any time that his and Tony’s paths had crossed, the only way to break the spell of wretchedness that came to descend upon him was to find his way to Steve’s quarters in the facility and thump softly on his door. He was always met with a warm smile, which usually faded to a sad look of concern, presumably when his own expression was clocked. This was one such occasion.

“Hey, Buck.”

Bucky nodded, trying a smile but feeling it teeter and sink again.

“You saw him?”

“Yeah.”

Steve stepped back from the door. “Come on,” he inclined his head into the room.

Bucky stepped inside gratefully, and waited for Steve to shut the door before stepping into his embrace – they still hadn’t told anyone about their relationship. Bucky wound his arms tight around Steve’s larger frame, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of his simple cotton scent tinged with the trace of Old Spice. He felt himself grounding instantly, sinking into the strong arms, large warm hands soothing as they stroked his back.

“You wanna talk about it?” Steve asked softly, breath soft on Bucky’s ear.

Bucky just shook his head slightly, burying his face into Steve’s neck.

“Okay.” Steve held him for another few moments, swaying them gently as they still stood by the door, before he leaned back enough from their embrace to look down into Bucky’s face, tucking a strand of long brown hair behind his ear affectionately. It was something he often did, unconsciously, since they got together. Sometimes he found himself going to do it in front of the others and having to stop himself. “You want something to eat? I was about to watch the game. Wanna watch it with me? The Yankees are playing.”

Bucky stepped back and took a deep breath, smiling at the blond. That sounded great to him. “Deal, but we gotta have pizza.”

*

“Geez, what’s with this team today? They can’t catch for toffee, they’re practically givin’ ‘em all the home runs they want,” Steve waffled as he watched the game, talking to Bucky without looking at him, the pair of them sitting against the headboard on Steve’s bed, mostly empty pizza box on Steve’s lap, though Bucky had eaten the lion’s share of the pie. His cheek was pillowed on Steve’s broad shoulder and his good arm was draped over his middle, his eyes closed. He had no interest in the game, really, but it was comforting background noise, and Steve was engrossed in it, so it was fine with him.

Despite the closed door of the private quarters, this was the closest they’d allowed themselves to be outside of their little excursions together. Steve had seen how Vision had little qualms with suddenly phasing through walls into people’s bedrooms without warning (or permission), although Wanda seemed to be the main recipient of this behaviour, when Steve thought about it…

“You think…” Bucky started eventually, his voice a murmur on Steve’s shoulder. Steve turned his head to look at him. “You think… we should come clean?”

“What do you mean?”

“About us, I mean. To the others. It just seems kinda silly, hiding it all this time. It’s not as though we’re just screwing around, it’s pretty serious." He looked up at Steve quickly, "It is, right? It’s serious?”

Steve smiled indulgently. “I think the term you’re looking for is ‘come out’, not ‘come clean’. You come clean when you’ve committed a crime.” He leaned further in, “and yes, it’s pretty darn serious.” He kissed Bucky’s lips just softly, making the other grin.

“Well in my defence, it used ta be a crime when we were kickin’ around.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty lucky, in lotsa ways.” He found Bucky’s hand and covered it with his own, squeezing gently. “But what made you think about going public?”

“It sounds dramatic when you put it like that,” Bucky answered, looking thoughtful. “But I mean it just like in front of the others, not being afraid to show anything. It feels almost like we’re scared of the others finding out, and I’m not.”

Steve gave it some thought, nodding softly. “I’m not, either. I guess it started as just leaving it until we’d been going steady a while.” He smiled and looked at Bucky. “I’m all for coming out of the door, if you are.”

Bucky barked out a genuine laugh. “It’s ‘coming outta the closet’, ya big dork. Geez Louise, you’ve been in this century how many years now?”

Steve just laughed with him, shrugging helplessly. “I know. Hopeless.”

*

After a small strategy meeting in Steve’s room that evening (which involved quite a large cheesecake that Bucky had lifted from the shared kitchen fridge – turned out to be Sam’s) they decided against a big announcement in front of their gathered colleagues, although the imagined scenario did have them on their backs laughing, almost knocking the plate of cheesecake off the rumpled bed covers. They just decided on not hiding anything. Next time that Steve wanted to run his fingers through Bucky’s hair in front of the others, he’d just do it. If Bucky wanted to link their fingers together during movie night, he would. On Steve’s birthday, he’d get a kiss along with his gifts.

Phase one of their plan went ahead the next day, when they were sat for dinner, listening to one of Scott’s stories from his life as a cat burglar (he said that his friend Luis could have told it better). Most of the group were present with the exception of Tony (he rarely came for dinner, he didn’t spend much of his time at the facility) and Vision, who didn’t eat. Scott’s story about hiding in a closet when the homeowners came back early, his backpack full of their valuables, had the table in stitches – but it reminded Steve of their plan. He smiled when Bucky, still laughing, turned to look at him, and reached out his hand to card his fingers through the long brown hair where it had fallen a little into his face. Bucky’s eyes were warm as they held his gaze for a second, then they both returned to listening to Scott -- who hadn’t noticed -- as though nothing had happened.

But when Steve’s eyes went around the faces of his other colleagues, he noticed Wanda looking at him with an expression of pure delight.

*

“Wanda knows,” Steve announced with a grin when they were alone again, in the corridor on their way to Steve’s quarters. “She saw me with my hand in your hair.”

“She’s bound to tell someone else, too. Anyone else see?” Bucky smirked. “It was nice.. being able to have that, in front of people.”

“I only saw her looking at us. Maybe Nat saw, but her poker face game is pretty amazing.”

“This is actually pretty fun. We need to up our game, though – holding hands next time,” Bucky winked.

“Aww, you wanna hold my widdle hand?” Steve mocked in a baby voice, still grinning.

Bucky punched him in the arm, triumphant when Steve’s mouth fell open in a twinge of pain. “Yeah I wanna hold your hand, you little punk, whatcha gonna do about it?”

Steve was rubbing his arm, eyes narrowed at Bucky, but he was smiling. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh?” He advanced on Bucky slowly, all cockiness and swagger.

“You bet your puny ass, newspaper boy,” Bucky countered with a grin, grunting when Steve pushed him into the wall with a thump, pressing against him in a way that made Bucky heat up a few degrees. “Whatcha gonna do about it?” his voice had dropped to a murmur.

“I’ll tell ya what I’m gonna do.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So tell me, then.”

“Oh, I will.”

“So tell me.”

Steve leaned in and caught Bucky’s mouth in a kiss, eyes closing, and Bucky hummed into the kiss, slipping his arms around Steve’s neck. It started off sweetly enough, but quickly grew passionate and open-mouthed with their playfulness and their bodies pressed flush. It had been a couple of weeks since they’d gone on one of their short trips for their ‘alone time’. This was just one more reason why Bucky was so glad of their plan to stop hiding their relationship. An actual bed to have sex in was going to be amazing.

Bucky moaned low in his throat, feeling himself getting excited, his fingers gripping at Steve’s short blonde hair and the collar of his shirt. He was just thinking about how he could transfer them quickly to Steve’s room without breaking any of their delicious contact when a crash coming from the end of the corridor made them jump apart, alarmed.

Bucky stared, panting and with pink, swollen lips and mussed up hair, as Tony Stark stared at them a few metres away, his mouth slightly open and a paper bag lying at his feet where it had fallen from his slack hands. His eyes held an expression so familiar to Bucky that he felt his stomach churn.

 

“Tony, um,” Steve started, looking sheepish. “Oh snap, you dropped your bag – look, this probably comes as a bit of a shock, but..” he carried on, smiling awkwardly, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck, but Tony interrupted him before he could ramble on.

“Oh, it’s a shock, all right,” the billionaire interjected, his voice oddly flat. “Then again, when I think about it, maybe it isn’t.” He turned on his heel and started off down the corridor, adding without looking back, “See you around.”

Steve and Bucky watched him head down the corridor and disappear into the elevator silently, both at a loss for words, trying to make sense of Tony’s strong reaction. Bucky pressed his lips together and smoothed his hair back, meeting Steve’s eyes.

“That one didn’t go so well,” Steve said quietly, breaking their stunned silence. “I… I guess I was a bit more anxious about telling Tony than the others because of, you know, what happened last year. But I wasn’t expecting…” he gestured at the empty corridor and at the fallen paper bag, which Tony had left behind, “…that.”

Bucky frowned softly and looked at his hands. “It’s gotta be that. Because of… what I did.”

Steve’s hands were on his shoulders immediately. “You listen to me. Nothing that happened to Tony, or anybody, because of the Winter Soldier was your fault. We’ve been over this a hundred times already!”

Bucky looked up into his eyes, the righteous indignation in those fierce blues was all for him. He often found himself thinking that he didn’t deserve it. He swallowed thickly. “But _he_ thinks that it is. And that’s enough.”

Steve turned and placed his hands on his hips, grunting in frustration. “But it doesn’t make sense. We put all that behind us, or at least we made our peace with each other. He let us all come back here, you included. He shook your hand, for crying out loud. He knows that we’re close friends, I don’t know why this would start the mess all over again.”

Steve had a point, Bucky conceded, biased as he was against his own past and his wrongdoings. Tony had seemed perfectly civil, if a little stiff, in their few interactions in the facility. But that look on his face, it was…

“Betrayal.”

“What?” Steve asked, turning to face Bucky again, his brows creased.

“That was the look on his face. He looked at us like… like he’d been betrayed. He looked like that back in… in Siberia.” Bucky sagged against the wall as the puzzle piece slotted into place.

Steve’s brow furrowed deeper. He looked at the fallen paper bag and slowly walked over to it, picking it up and peering inside. “Oh man, Tony…” he murmured, pulling gently from the bag a broken ornament. Bucky wandered closer, peering at the object to make it out. On closer inspection, it was an old baseball in a little glass case with an engraving.

“It’s a baseball signed by the Brooklyn Dodgers when they won the national league,” Steve said softly, turning the cracked case over in his hands. “Nineteen forty-one.”

Bucky was amazed. “Weren’t we at that game? And wasn’t that the—“

“The game they played on the radio when I woke up in 2012, so I wouldn’t panic,” Steve finished for him. He gave a great sigh, staring at the old baseball, which was covered in faded signatures.

“That’s a pretty thoughtful gift,” Bucky noted. “And rare. Those things cost thousands. But why was he bringing it today? It’s not your birthday or nothin’.”

Steve was puzzled himself and though he racked his brain, he couldn’t think of any special significance that would prompt Tony to bring him such an incredible gift.

“It shows he cares about you a lot,” Bucky added, rubbing Steve’s back gently.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, a soft frown still on his face. “More than I realised.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve pays Tony a visit. Bucky worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the angst train hit hard this time. And the chapter after, too.

 

Steve needed to talk to somebody.

Since the episode in the corridor over two weeks ago, Tony hadn’t shown up once at the facility, which was an unusually long absence, even for him. He’d considered bringing it up with Bucky, because usually he could confide anything to him, being best friends long before anything more had happened between them. But Steve knew that Bucky was feeling wretched over the whole thing, that it had brought up memories and thoughts that they both thought were beginning to heal over. He couldn’t bring himself to pick at those scabs, and decided to have the talk with someone else he could trust. Someone that would listen and not judge.

He left Bucky to doze on his bed, deciding that it would be easier to go and try sorting this out while he was asleep and wouldn’t ask where he was going. Natasha was waiting for him on the veranda adjoining the main lounge, looking out over the verdant grounds.

“Hey, Rogers,” the redhead gave a smile as Steve leaned against the railing beside her. “I was pretty intrigued at your message. So what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Despite having asked her, and knowing that he could trust her with any secret and it would go to the grave with her, he felt apprehensive just broaching the subject. “It’s about Tony,” he started after a moment. “Something’s, uh, happened.”

Natasha raised a perfect eyebrow. “What is it this time? Is it serious?”

Steve had the expression of a troubled man. “I think it’s pretty serious, but not the last year kind of serious. I hope. Man, where do I start,” he muttered, frowning at his watch.

Natasha had a mind as keen as a scalpel, immediately trying to piece together what Steve was having trouble getting out. “Is Barnes involved?”

Steve gave such a tiny twitch that no one but somebody trained to spot tells and body language cues would have spotted it. Natasha spotted it.

“Is it something to do with you sleeping with him?” Natasha asked blandly, making Steve snap his face up to stare at her in shock.

“Nat!” He felt his face heating up. “How did you even—did you speak to Wanda?” he asked, blushing, figuring that Wanda must have told her that she saw him stroking Bucky’s hair at dinner that time.

“Steve, you’ve been sneaking off for camping trips together for months now, how did you figure that nobody worked it out? We live in the same building, you know. It’s pretty damned obvious, just the way you look at each other.”

“Oh,” Steve’s blush was high on his cheeks as he looked at the ground. “We were, um, planning on letting you guys know. We just.. wanted to wait until—“ he cut himself off, “Wait, does everybody know?”

Natasha smiled. “Well, I can’t speak for everybody, but me and Clint had a wager on whether you’d tell or not. He owes me twenty bucks.” She smirked at the look of dismay on Steve’s face before moving the subject on. “So come on, this thing with Tony. What happened?”

Steve frowned softly, digging his hands into his pockets. “A couple weeks ago, me and Buck were heading back to my room to watch a movie or something,” his glare did nothing to quell Nat’s grin, “and we kinda started, y’know, fooling around there in the corridor.”

Natasha supressed the urge to whistle. “Go on.”

Steve related the following events, Tony’s reaction, the dropped gift, and what Bucky had said after. Natasha closed her eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed.

“He’s got feelings for you.”

Steve looked uncomfortable and held up a hand. “Well, I don’t wanna presume on somebody else’s—“

“Steve, get real. There’s only one reason he’d react like that to seeing you and Barnes together, and that gift is not something you’d just get for a buddy. It was thoughtful, it was something meaningful from your past.”

Steve winced and leaned his hands against the veranda railing. “I just… it’s still bugging me, why he came to bring it on that day. It wasn’t my birthday, I can’t think why he’d do that.”

“You said it was two weeks ago?” Natasha asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah, give or take a day.”

“Interesting. It was the date that you were defrosted about a month ago.”

Steve raised his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, I guess it was. But that’s still not right.”

“How long had you been out of the ice when you joined us on the helicarrier?” Nat asked, though she’d guessed already.

“I’d say a couple of weeks,” Steve replied thoughtfully. “Not that long.”

Nat nodded to herself. “He gave you that baseball on the five year anniversary of meeting you.”

Steve felt a huge rush of guilt hit him in the stomach like a bowling ball. How could he have not figured that one out? Tony had remembered the day they met. All this time, through all of the squaring off and the jibes, the arguments, Tony had this little candle burning. He ran his hands over his face. Even the events of the previous year made that much more sense with this new perspective. “Why hasn’t he ever said anything? This just isn’t like Tony. You know what a cocksure playboy he is. I just can’t believe he’s been sitting on this one for five whole years.”

“I dunno, maybe it didn’t happen straight away. And you know Tony, that stuff’s all a front. We know he’s got a heart in there somewhere.”

“But Pepper…” Steve continued, exasperated. “He’s been with Pepper, until—“

“Until she broke up with him over something. He never went into detail about what happened. Maybe it was because she felt like she had competition for his heart?” Nat smiled, but there was no humour in it.

Steve was reeling from it all. He’d never had even an inkling that Tony felt that way. He had to clear the air, though. He couldn’t, in good conscience, leave things as they were. He’d had enough of fighting with Tony, of having some _issue_ between them and all this animosity and awkwardness. Steve straightened his shoulders, the determined look on his face making Natasha a bit apprehensive.

“Steve.”

“I’m gonna talk to him, Nat. I can’t have this just festering. If the others ask, I won’t be long.” He strode from the veranda before Natasha could reply, leaving her staring after him.

“Good luck with that,” she said to no one.

 

*

 

Bucky stretched with a groan, eyes blinking open blearily. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he’d kept himself awake the previous night with worrying himself stupid, and Steve’s bed was really comfortable. He sat up, clothes twisted and rumpled, yawning as he checked his watch. He’d been asleep for around two hours. Looking around the room and not seeing Steve, he slipped out of the bed, adjusting his jeans and slate Henley as he padded to the door and made his way to the kitchen.

“Hey man,” Clint called as Bucky tried not to zombie-shuffle to the coffee machine. “You been asleep?” He was bent over a dismantled trick arrow head on the kitchen table, working at it with a tiny screwdriver.

“Yup,” Bucky grunted, pouring himself a cup and dumping two generous sugars into the steaming coffee, taking a seat across from Clint. “You seen Steve anywhere?”

“Oh yeah, Nat said that Steve went to see Tony,” Clint answered distractedly, tongue poking out as he worked on the trick arrow. “I got this new prototype I’m working on,” he explained. “It’s got a Bluetooth upload system that—“

“Hold on, hold on,” Bucky interrupted. “You said he went to see Tony? He’s at Tony’s?”

“Uh huh,” Clint confirmed, switching to a mini tri-wing screwdriver. “He’s been gone an hour or so, maybe an hour and a half. Said he wouldn’t be long.”

Bucky’s stomach did a little somersault, and it wasn’t pleasant. He stood up from the table, coffee forgotten, and walked from the kitchen without another word.

Clint looked up to see him leaving and called after him. “Hey, man, everything all right?” No answer came, and Clint shrugged to himself, going back to his work.

*

Bucky sat on his own bed in his quarters, foot bouncing up and down agitatedly as he tried calling Steve for the third time. No answer. Why had Steve just gone off like that without telling him? Had he waited for Bucky to fall asleep?

He’d figured out pretty much instantly that Tony wanted Steve after the little corridor incident two weeks back. He’d told Steve as much, despite Steve’s attempts to brush it off, he knew that Steve knew it too, though it was likely his own modesty preventing him from conceding to it.

The thought of Tony taking Steve from him was an insidious worm that crawled through his deepest insecurities, keeping him awake, making him feel wretched for the sad and possessive way he held Steve when they were alone, the way he kissed him more passionately than before, trying in some weird unconscious way to persuade him to stay and not think about Tony. He knew what Tony had to offer that he didn’t, he was smarter, funnier, a hell of a lot richer, though he knew that Steve didn’t care about money. He felt the lump rise in his throat, his own brain working against him as he convinced himself more and more with each passing minute that Tony had tried and succeeded in seducing Steve, taking him away from him.

And despite those thoughts, he found himself unable to feel anger towards Tony. Maybe this was Karma? He had taken Tony’s world away when he was a boy by killing his parents. So now maybe it was only right for Tony to take Bucky’s world away, too. The thought triggered flashes in his head of the struggle the previous year, the hate in Tony’s face, the pain, seeing that CCTV footage of his own hands murdering those Tony had loved most…

He flung his phone across the room with a frustrated cry, smashing the mirror hanging on the wall, and dropped his head into his hands, shoulders shivering as he held back tears. In his head, the same words repeated over and over, you deserve this, you deserve this, you deserve this…

“Bucky?”

A soft, apprehensive voice brought him out of himself with a snap, and he looked up to see Wanda poking her young face around the door, looking concerned.

“I heard you shout, and there was a noise…” she trailed off as she spotted the smashed mirror. “Is everything all right?”

He fought himself, trembling with the effort of holding back tears, which seemed all the more difficult when a soft voice had asked what was wrong. “Yep,” he managed a tight reply.

Wanda stepped inside the room uninvited, closing it behind her, and sat her slim frame next to his on the bed. “Did you fight with Steve?” she asked, laying her hand on his forearm. He flinched a little, but she kept her hand there, warm and comforting.

He shook his head, his breathing tight as he continued to fight back his own emotions, refusing to embarrass himself in front of a teenage girl. _She_ should have been crying over a boy, not _him_.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want,” Wanda added carefully. “It’s none of my business. But if you need someone to talk to, I’m a pretty good listener.” Bucky managed to hold it together, until her arm came around his shoulder in a soft squeeze, and he broke.

“It’s all right,” Wanda soothed as he lowered his head, his brown hair obscuring his face, as he cried softly, whimpering _‘I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this…’_. Wanda frowned and just held him, wondering what on earth had happened.

 

 

“Tony, let me up. We need to talk,” Steve demanded again as he spoke into the intercom.

“I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, but the boss is really quite busy,” the AI, FRIDAY, explained in an apologetic tone.

“Well I’m not leaving until I’ve spoken to him. I didn’t come all the way out here to argue with a microchip,” he declared, folding his arms across his broad chest.

“Technically, I’m not a microchip, I’m actually a—Captain Rogers, please step away from the control panel—“

Steve had pulled the smooth chrome panel away from the elevator control and started jabbing at the circuitry. “One of these has to be a manual-“

“Captain, it’s unsafe for you to—“

“ _Let him up, FRIDAY.”_

Steve recognised the voice as Tony’s, and stepped into the elevator expectantly, feeling a little childish for being so smug at an AI for winning.

When Steve stepped out of the elevator and onto Tony’s private floor, he saw Tony lounging on a couch in sweatpants and an open bathrobe, sunglasses on and a glass of bourbon in his hand.

“Capsicle. To what do I owe,” he took a swig of the bourbon, “this unexpected pleasure?”

Steve stopped in the middle of the room, hands useless at his sides. “We need to talk, Tony.”

“Oh? We do? What would you like to discuss? The fine weather we’re having?”

“You know what about. When you came by the facility a couple weeks ago.” Steve folded his arms.

“Ah yes,” Tony replied theatrically with a slap of his thigh as he sat up straight. “Now that you mention it. I do recall seeing something that made me almost lose my lunch on the drive back home.”

Steve watched him concernedly – he could see Tony was way past his first glass of bourbon. Maybe past his first bottle. “Listen, Tony. I had no idea that you would, um, feel that way. Seeing Bucky and me.”

Tony seemed to recoil at Steve’s words, his lip curling, yanking off his sunglasses and flinging them to the floor. “You had no idea. Well gee, that makes sense. Would it have made a damn scrap of difference if you did?”

Steve spread his hands, feeling helpless in the heat of Tony’s anger. “Of course it would – Tony, you’re my friend, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you if I could help it, you gotta understand-“

Tony cut him off with a bark of laughter. “Are you shitting me Rogers? Are you even the slightest bit aware of the shit you pulled last year? Of what you’re _still_ doing to me?” Tony yelled, his cool well and truly lost. He spun away from Steve, on his feet now, hands pulling at his own hair in agitation.

“I… I didn’t know you liked me,” Steve swallowed, nervous about putting it into words, the elephant in the room. “That you liked me… in that way.”

Tony scoffed with bitter laughter, heading to the glass table beside the couch to snatch up the bottle of bourbon. “I figured. But I always just sucked it up, you know? A stupid, embarrassing crush. Good ol’ Mr. Star-Spangled, God-fearing, vanilla-flavoured bible-boy would never, _ever_ , entertain the thought of seeing another man, never mind the hot mess that I turned out to be,” Tony spat, turning to smile coldly at him. Steve swallowed guiltily, seeing where Tony was going.

“So, imagine my surprise, when I turn a corner to see dear, upstanding Captain America with his tongue well and truly down the throat of – gasp! – a dude! But not just any dude, oh no. Only the damned son of a bitch that murdered my mom and dad, who helped you beat the shit out of me in Siberia last year, who—“ Tony cut himself off, his face twisted in anguish, tears in his dark, burning eyes as he stared into Steve’s. “How could you?” he whispered, almost in disgust. “Just seeing you with him, his hands on you, kissing you…”

“Tony,” Steve interjected, raising his voice a little. This was too much for him to take.

“I just – I gotta ask, Steve, have you always been into guys? Did I seriously miss the boat, here? I mean, I’ve always swung both ways, tended to prefer ladies, but y’know, for the right guy…” He was stepping closer to Steve, whose mouth was working silently under the verbal barrage, his dark eyes fierce.

“Look, Tony, it isn’t like that. I’m not—“ Steve backed up a little as Tony got into his personal space. He could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Not what? Not a fag? Not a fuck-up like me? God, I hated your self-righteousness. Hated that I thought you’d look down on me if you knew what I felt about you. What a fucking joke, huh?” Tony gritted his teeth and shoved angrily at Steve’s muscular chest. “And all this time you were _fucking him_ , while I stewed here, loathing myself for wanting someone as pure as you.” He punched at Steve’s chest, grunting with a wince, hurting his own hand more than Steve.

“Stop, Tony, you’re gonna hurt yourself! You’re drunk…” Steve grabbed Tony’s wrist and held it tight to stop his thrashing. “Please calm down, you need to—“

By now Tony had backed Steve to the wall, and Steve was cut off with a surprised grunt when Tony jammed his thigh between Steve’s, pressing up against him, before he crushed his lips against Steve’s desperately. Steve froze just for a couple of seconds with the shock of Tony’s desperate advance, before he turned his head away from him, panting, pushing at his chest without shoving him too hard, not wanting to hurt him.

“Tony, please, stop…”

Tony’s eyes leaked the tears they’d held, his face chasing Steve’s as he turned it to the wall. “I could make you happier than he does, you know I could,” he gasped out in a rush. “What is it that he did, that turned your head? I could do it better. Give me a chance, huh, Steve? Just give me a chance… I know I can make you feel good, I know it,” he whispered feverishly, tears running down his cheeks, clutching at Steve’s shirt, thigh pressing in against Steve’s groin.

“I love him,” Steve turned his face again to meet Tony’s gaze, his blue eyes solemn and swimming with a mixture of sadness and pity. His words hit Tony like a punch in the gut, and he recoiled from Steve instantly, staggering backwards and almost falling when he hit the couch. He slumped down into the seat, all anger and passion vaporised, while Steve watched him from against the wall, silent.

The silence was agonising, and Steve eventually pushed off from the wall Tony had had him against, smoothing his shirt down, frowning.

“Tony,” he started softly, after a moment.

“Don’t,” Tony said sharply, raising a hand, not looking at him. “I don’t want to hear it. Just go.”

“I need to know that you’re gonna be all right. You’re drunk, I’m worried about you…”

Tony shook his head, face grimacing. “Don’t start with that Care Bear shit, Steve. I’ve humiliated myself enough. Just get out of here.”

Steve hovered for a few seconds more, swallowing hard and lowering his head as he made for the elevator without another word. In the ride down, Steve spoke up to get the attention of FRIDAY, the AI.

“Friday, is there someone you can call to come see to Tony? He’s… not in a good way. I don’t think he should be alone.”

“I’ll call someone right away, thanks, Captain.”

“See you around, FRIDAY.” Steve always felt a little strange talking to a disembodied digital voice, but maybe that was the old man in him. With a sigh, he exited the elevator and stepped out into the street to hail a cab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did the panic set in for a minute there, Stucky fans?
> 
> Poor Tony. I really need to figure out how to fix him for a future instalment.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think in some comments, I live for them. Just imagine the joy you'll bring to the heart of this jaded old hack. 
> 
> But yeah, I don't ship Stony, but I ship unrequited Stony, if that makes sense to you. Poor Tony. Watch Civil War again, with this thought in mind - Tony is in love with Steve, but Steve only has eyes for Bucky. I also ship unrequited FrostIron, where Loki may flirt or even sleep with Tony but ultimately he truly loves Thor and will always choose him in the end. And Pepper dumps him, Bruce goes missing. Can you imagine that desperate heartache?
> 
> OH WELL at least Bucky and Steve are happy! >:D


End file.
